A Bow and Arrow
by big-fic-energy
Summary: Allison Argent has been raised as a hunter. Her home is never permanent and she has a bit of a smoking problem. After her parents learn about recent werewolf activity in Beacon Hills, she is sent on a mission to exterminate all threats. However, she runs into a problem when someone she started to care about turns out to be a werewolf. Allison is left to question everything.
1. Prologue

My phone rang. I sighed, picking it up on the sixth ring, waiting until the last minute. "We need you again," the metallic voice said.

"Dad, I told you-"

"Be here in five." He abruptly hung up.

"... that I'm done for the month." I finished warily. I threw my phone in my bag and took a long drag of the cigarette in my other hand. I hadn't gotten more than three hours of sleep for ten days straight. I only wish it was because of a drinking problem or something interesting like partying every night. Like other teenagers.

I had already hit my quota. He told me I could have the last of the month off. Reluctantly, I started my old dilapidated car. Luckily, I was only at a drugstore nearby. They got angry when I came home late. Oddly enough, this was exactly where I spent most of my time. I wasn't allowed to smoke, I knew it was bad for me, and knew that I would for sure have breathing problems later. Smoking calmed me down. My breathing evened and I could focus on something else than the "family business". The drugstore was one of the only reliable things in my life. Always welcoming, it gave me what I wanted, every time: nicotine.

Pulling into my driveway, I saw my dad at the window. I mentally prepared myself for the inevitable speech that would follow. We've been here too long. Five months and 29 days. We never stayed anywhere longer than six months. No time for connections, no time for neighbors.

When I walked in, my parents were waiting for me on the old couch I think belonged to a great grandmother. Crinkley and musty, it was more placed for guests. We never actually sat on the couch or spent time in the living room in general, so this was weird- even for my family.

"If we're staging an intervention, I suggest we bring grandpa in here and mention that we've noticed our wine bottles disappearing suspiciously quickly."

My mom rolled her eyes. "Allison, sit down."

My parents were old. Too old to have a seventeen-year old. My dad was hard and grey, Methodical, logical, plotting, but loving in his own way. My mom was his balance, colorful, unconventional, and creative. She went to art school before she met my dad. Seeing the almost polar opposites in front of me was confusing.

'So…" I meandered. They looked at eachother and back at me. In perfect sync.

My mom folded and unfolded her hands. "We're moving back to Beacon Hills."

"Ok…" I wasn't surprised; sometimes jobs came up in the same city.

"And," my mom glanced at my dad,"we want you to head the project."I was shocked, I couldn't do anything but stare. In all honesty, I probably looked like one of those cartoons where the eyes bug out and the jaw drops to the ground. For years, I had been crafting and working until all my parents could see was perfection. And now it was finally happening. I was going to hunt my own werewolves.

You have to understand, up until right now, fantasizing about this moment was the only thing that kept me going. Through training. Through my life.

My mom explained, grinning,"We realized that you were getting older and it's time that you learned how to lead," she stuttered. "I- I won't always be around, Allison, and once that happens, the family will take orders from you."

At the time, I was so blinded by the fact that I would be giving the orders, that I had no room in my crowded mind to compute anything else.

I stood up, still shocked, "I promise. Promise I won't let you down." I could barely get it out. I was not about to destroy the chance that I'd been waiting for.

My mom laughed, snapping out of her reverie. "I believe you."

"C'mon we need to get to work," My dad's eyes were crinkling and I think I saw a small smile. But I can't be sure. It was just like him to not waste any time preparing.

This was the most exciting day of my life.

It was one of my most vivid memories.

Coincidentally, it was also one of the few times my dad was entirely wrong. Nothing could prepare me for this assignment and the actions that would follow.

Eventually, I think I broke every rule in the hunter code.

Eventually, my life would become hell.

But I guess you'll find that out soon enough.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - A New Hope

* * *

I was sitting in my car, smoking another cigarette and watching the smoke waft out of my window. Not the most interesting way to pass the time, but it worked.

The noisy sound of a bus stopping reminded me that I was in a school parking lot. Beacon Hills Public. It was a new place, but the same school. Cliques, teachers, homework, judgement: a recipe for fun!

I opened my door and stepped out of the rusty chevy I drove. It was so old I didn't even know how to fix it. Usually I just hip-checked it and hoped for the best.

As I was stepping on my cigarette, a body ran into me. I lurched forward, hitting into my car, my bag flung out of my hand.

"Watch it." I snapped as I looked up.

A boy with a frenzied expression was picking up the papers that had dropped out of my bag.

"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered. Haphazardly collecting the papers, he fairly threw them into my hands, his mind obviously elsewhere. "Under any normal circumstances I would gladly stay and chat, but apparently my friend found… something important uh. I'll see you. Sorry," He barely got out before he ran away.

That was weird, I thought to myself. People never usually spoke to me. When you constantly move schools, invisibility and minding your own makes it easier. With a grunt, I slammed the car door shut.

Walking into school, I thought about Derek. After all, he was the entire reason I had moved here. He was a werewolf- and I hadn't been raised to tolerate his kind. But soon enough, I forgot everything about him. That was my first mistake.

The minute I stepped foot into the English classroom, I remembered all the other times I had done this same exact thing. Looked at all the judging eyes that stared at me. After so many embarrassing moments to learn from, I had perfected my introduction speech. This time, I stood by the teacher's desk, waiting for him to spout off the usual: "This is Allison, she's your new classmate."

Cautiously, I cleared my throat, "Ahem."

The teacher glanced at me, lazily looking up from his book, "Yes?"

Thrown off, I stammered, "I- I'm Allison."

He put his book down and took his feet off of the desk. "And I'm Mr. Bernstein. Congratulations, by the way, do you want a cookie?"

My face melted into a scowl and I suddenly felt hot. I wasn't prepared to be mocked on the first day.

He reached into his desk only to pull out a literal cookie. "You like oatmeal raisin?"

"What are you, the fourth stooge?" I decided a long time ago that hostility was the only way to regain my composure.

Mr. Bernstein turned to the class and smiled, "Ah, she has wit." He motioned to a desk at the back of the room, "Please. Take a seat, Ms. Argent." Sitting back down, I watched as he bit into the cookie.

The only open seat was right next to the very energetic boy who had knocked me over five minutes ago and his friend. They were talking in hushed whispers but stopped when I walked by.

Before I came here, I thought I knew exactly what to expect. Hunters weren't supposed to be surprised by anything, yet the smallest detail, a teacher who didn't follow the rules, threw me off. I guess I must have looked angry, reflecting on my latest mishap, because I saw the worried boy throw me a few nervous glances. He stared at his friend. "No," he mouthed.

The worried boy's friend turned around, "Hi, I'm Scott."

Worried Boy rolled his eyes.

"This is Stiles."

Stiles' eyes bulged. He gave me a half-hearted wave.

"He didn't want me to talk to you because he's kind of scared."

"Tell her my credit card number, why don't you," Stiles quipped sourly.

"But I just wanted to tell you that he's always like that," Scott motioned to the teacher.

"Better yet, let's give her my Social Security."

Scott was the second student to talk to me that day, which was still getting weirder.

"I'm Allison. Argent."I wavered.

"If it makes you feel any better, I think Bernie keeps a cookie in there just in case a situation like that happens." Scott smiled. He was exceptionally average- brown hair, brown eyes- but he had a blinding smile. It made me feel warm inside, which was something I hadn't felt in a long time.

I couldn't help but smile back at him, "Wonder what else he keeps in his desk."

Stiles was still going. This time, he addressed me, "Do you have a pen and paper? Because I'm about to read the numbers, and you're going to miss them."

Grimacing, Scott rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, he's always like that too… So, uh, if you want, I can show you where your next class is?"

Logically, it was the right choice to make. I honestly didn't know where the classrooms were. Who am I kidding, I was enthralled. I craved the warm feeling I got when he smiled. Surprisingly, it was so open and genuine. "Actually, that would be great," I grinned, totally distracted.

"Great!" He turned back to Stiles, whispering again. But this time I was close enough to hear it.

Scott stared at Stiles. "What are you doing, man? If you keep talking, she's not gonna want to talk to me."

Stiles looked visibly stunned. "Me? You… I," He took a deep breath, frustrated. "People don't want to talk to me because of you. Believe it or not, you're a nerd! And I'm a nerd by association!" He grew more hysterical. "I've been scarlet-nerded by you!"

Scott turned serious, "Okay, well that's over. I've been working a lot, and this year I'm gonna make varsity."

"I'll keep the left side of the bench warm for you, buddy," shrugged Stiles.

Scott looked back and gave me a small smile. I didn't think of anything else until the bell rang. Which hasn't happened in a long time. Truthfully, hunters aren't supposed to really feel anything. The thought of my dad knowing what I was thinking brought me back to my senses. I was on a mission, and school was just a necessity.

On my way to my locker, a perfectly manicured hand grabbed my arm, pulling me back.

"Wow. I love your jacket! Where did you buy it? It's vintage, right?"

I didn't have the heart to tell her it was my dad's old leather jacket. So, I lied. "My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco." It didn't surprise me how easily the lie came out. Hunters have to lie all the time.

"And you're my new best friend. I'm Lydia." Intense was the only word I could think of. I wondered what she would think if she realized our friendship was based on lie. But I brushed it off.

"Allison, I'm new here." I plastered on a smile.

"Right. Well, meet me here after fourth period. You're coming with me to watch the lacrosse team practice. You can help me cheer for my boyfriend, Jackson. He's the captain," she boasted proudly.

Even then, I had a feeling that the only force stronger than Lydia was God himself, and I'm proud to say that statement is still true. At the time, I thought that Lydia inviting a total stranger to spend time with her was odd. I thought it was even more odd that I agreed. But now I understand that it was simply meant to happen. I wasn't usually the type to have girlfriends and go shopping. But maybe there was something to this.

Afterwards, Scott found me. "What's your next class?"

I struggled, unfolding my schedule and trying to read the tiny print, "Chem with… Mrs. Fischer."

"Oh Fischer's a killer. I heard she accidentally graded her own answer key and gave it a 95."

I smiled again. For the first time, I felt hopeful. I felt in control; the possibilities were endless. But I wasn't focused on the job I was assigned. And unfortunately, for a hunter, that had harsh repercussions.

* * *

(No copyright infringement is intended)


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